


The Valiant Hero

by theotpeffect



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Epic Battles, Gen, Short One Shot, blanket capes, hero!America
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:56:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2421038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theotpeffect/pseuds/theotpeffect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America takes a second attempt at drawing the Allies before their meeting but when he finishes he ends up getting bored. One thing leads to another and suddenly America is fighting his worst enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Valiant Hero

**Author's Note:**

> So, for some reason, when I woke up this morning one of my first thoughts was of America running around with a little blanket-cape and shouting that he was a hero. I basically spent all day at school thinking about it and then this was born. I hope you enjoy :D

America had woken up early just for this day because he knew that it was going to be special. He had gone to New York again just for an occasion like this. He was going to beat England to the chalkboard and draw the Allies faces again. He was quite proud of what he had done the first time but no one else seemed that thrilled. So he studied drawing a little more in his little trip and now he knew  _no one_ would be displeased with his work. Last time he had done good but this time he was going to be so amazing that all the other Allies would be left in speechless awe once they laid their eyes on his masterpiece.

America made his way into the meeting room and peeked inside. Good, no one was there yet. America went inside and sidled over to the black board. Oh man, everyone would be wondering who this amazing mystery artist was that came in. His drawing had changed a lot since his most recent visit to New York, there was no way that they would even think that they were the same person, that was just how much he had improved.

America got started on his drawings without further delay. He picked up the chalk and set it on the blackboard. Soon he was tapping away frantically, taking artistic liberties with the Allies's features to make it seem even more impressive. For Russia he made sure that his nose was definitely visible and that he had a spooky aura behind him. For England he made his eyebrows clearly noticeable. For France he decided that he would take a different path and styled his hair in a way that subtly expressed  _lion._  He didn't really have an idea for China so he just drew him with an angry face and a little speech bubble that said "Suck ball!"

When he was done he set the chalk down and looked at his work with a satisfied smile. Oh yeah, they would _definitely_ love this. He turned around and stood at the front of the room and waited. He was sure that the Allies would start turning up soon. After a minute he began to get restless. Everyone was taking too long.

Eventually America started walking around the room and sifted through all the drawers and closets that were there. It wasn't all that many so it wasn't long before he was bored again. He sat in one of the chairs and tapped at the table top. The most note worthy thing in the closet was a blanket that Canada liked to use on occasion.

Suddenly America leaped up, propelled by an amazing idea. He went back to the blanket that had been neatly folded in the closet and took it out. He unfolded it and held it up in front of him. It was nice and long, perfect. America draped it over his shoulders in a dramatic fashion and tied the ends in a knot in front of his neck. He twirled and marveled at how the blanket was thin enough to flow around him elegantly. He grinned and lifted his arms so he could flex his biceps.

"Well hello there," a voice said behind him. America whipped around and lifted his fists up. A shadowy figure stood menacingly in a dark corner of the room. He couldn't see the person's face.

"Who are you?" he demanded.

"Oh don't you recognize me?" the voice said and they stepped forward into the light.

America gasped. "You."

"Yes.  _Me_. Your worst enemy." 

A man stood in front of him with an ugly scar running down his face. He was cloaked in all black and looked as menacing as Russia.

"I would say it's a pleasure seeing you again, Enemy, but that would be a lie," America snarled. 

"Such cruel words," Enemy said in mock hurt. "Didn't you miss me?"

"Oh yeah, I definitely missed my human punching bag," America said. He leaped forward and crossed the room, his cape billowing behind him. He didn't hesitate a second as he let his fist connect with the man's face. There was a crunch and Enemy flew backward and into the wall, four feet away. He landed against the wall with a _thud_ and slowly slid to the floor. America straightened and smiled triumphantly. That should do it.

When he turned around there was a chuckle and he looked over his shoulder.

"Did you  _really_ think that was all you needed to do to stop me?" Enemy asked.

America snorted. "Guess not. You might be a little stronger than I thought."

"I _am_  stronger. Don't underestimate me," Enemy said and stood up. He swayed for a moment before he stood steady. America was inclined to laugh at him but before he could Enemy charged right at him. He was fast, too fast. There was no time for America to dodge as Enemy rammed right into his chest and tackled him down. America felt his breath leave for a moment as he fell to the floor. The added weight of the large man on top of him didn't help with regaining his breath.

He pushed on Enemy but he held fast. Enemy reached behind him and pulled something out of one of his pocket's. America tried to see what it was but a second later he didn't need to see it because it was being pressed against his throat. The cold metal tickled his skin and a moment later a thin stream of something warm trickled down his throat and he felt a slight sting where the knife was being pressed.

America swallowed loudly and glared at Enemy.

"Don't give  _me_ a look like that," Enemy growled. "Who's the one with the knife here, huh?"

He pressed the knife even closer to America. He didn't flinch as he continued to glare at his enemy. Heroes never flinched at times like this.

"You won't get away with this," America said. "Whatever you're planning, you won't get away with it."

Enemy laughed. "Fool. Of course I'll get away with it."

America smirked. "Whatever lets you sleep at night."

Suddenly there was a crash and America's trusty sidekick Tony was charging full speed at Enemy. He held up a pistol and fired. Once it struck Enemy he grunted and examined the afflicted area. Slowly, white was covering his arm and he looked on in horror.

"What is this?" Enemy cried.

"Fuck if I know," America said. "But the thing about having a sidekick that's an alien is that you get a bunch of kick-ass technology to stop guys like you."

Tony fired again and Enemy was struck in the face. He screamed and clutched at the area. It was slowly enveloping him as it spread across a quarter of his face and then half. He scratched at himself violently and flung himself to the ground.

"I'll get you for this, Captain America!" Enemy said and raised the knife up high. America used the opportunity to punch him right in the face. Enemy went flying upwards and America lifted his legs and prepared for the final blow. As Enemy plummeted back towards Earth, America kicked up and felt his feet sink into the soft flesh of his stomach. Again, Enemy was flung into the air but this time he splatted across the ceiling. He hung there for a second before gravity finally got its hold on him again and dragged him down. He fell limply to the ground. America got up and cautiously examined Enemy's unconscious body.

The white stuff had now completely covered his head and he looked a bit like he was wearing a helmet. It was on his arm as well and a good portion of it had made its way to his torso.

America smirked. "Not today, bitch."

He turned around and high-fived Tony. After that he and Tony spoke of stuff that only badasses spoke of before they parted ways. America crouched down and prepared himself for flight. He leaped into the air and only got as high as the table top before a voice interrupted him.

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?" England asked.

"Defeating my enemy," America said and pointed at the unconscious body that was supposed to be lying on the floor.

"That's a chair," England said. He sighed and shook his head. "You know what. I won't even ask."

"Oh, look at my awesome cape," America said and lifted it for England to see.

"That's a blanket," England said.

"You have no imagination Iggy," America said with a frown.

"And _you_ are putting a bunch of footprints on the table. Get down from there," England pointed to the floor.

Ametrics sighed and hopped down. As soon as his feet touched the ground all the other Allies congregated in the room. America untied the knot that had been keeping his cape on him and draped it over a random chair.

"What the hell is that?" China said and pointed to the chalkboard.

England turned around. "I'm not sure. I didn't notice it at first." 

Francis laughed. "I think the one with the obscenely large eyebrows is supposed to be you, England." England glowered at him.

"Why am I saying 'suck ball?'" China asked.

"Why am I not on there?" Canada whispered. Crap, America thought, he had forgotten to draw Canada.

"Why is there a random lion?" England asked.

"Is my nose really that big," Russia asked and touched his nose. 

There was a moment of silence and then France spoke up. "It looks like America has been drawing again."

"I have my pickax, so I can destroy it," Russia said.

"Don't do that," everyone else said simultaneously.

"It's too awesome to destroy," America said.

Everyone sighed.

"I think you need to take more art lessons," England said.


End file.
